The following lines which I copied from "Pethau a wnaed mewn Gardd," or things written in a garden, appeared to me singularly beautiful:-- "Mewn gardd y cafodd dyn ei dwyllo; Mewn gardd y rhoed oddewid iddo; Mewn gardd bradychwyd Iesu hawddgar; Mewn gardd amdowyd ef mewn daear." "In a garden the first of our race was deceived; In a garden the promise of grace he received; In a garden was Jesus betrayed to His doom; In a garden His body was laid in the tomb." Having finished my glass of "summut" and my translation, I called to the woman and asked her what I had to pay.
"Nothing," said she, "if you had had a cup of tea I should have charged sixpence." "You make no charge," said I, "for what I have had ?" "Nothing, sir, nothing." "But suppose," said I, "I were to give you something by way of present would you--" and here I stopped.

The woman smiled.
"Would you fling it in my face ?" said I.
"Oh dear, no, sir," said the woman, smiling more than before.
I gave her something--it was not a sixpence--at which she not only smiled but curtseyed; then bidding her farewell I went out of the door.
I was about to take the broad road, which led round the hill, when she inquired of me where I was going, and on my telling her to Festiniog, she advised me to go by a by-road behind the house which led over the hill.
"If you do, sir," said she, "you will see some of the finest prospects in Wales, get into the high road again, and save a mile and a half of way." I told the temperance woman I would follow her advice, whereupon she led me behind the house, pointed to a rugged path, which with a considerable ascent seemed to lead towards the north, and after giving certain directions, not very intelligible, returned to her temperance temple..